When I was a kid, I was obsessed with Strawberry Shortcake dolls. I’d save up my weekly allowance, and when I had enough saved, my mom would take me to the local toy store, where I would buy one of the dolls. The dolls had cute names like Strawberry Shortcake, Apple Dumpling (a baby), Blueberry Muffin, and Huckleberry Pie. On…

It was the end of the eighth-grade school year. I stood in the garage in tears, pleading with my dad while he folded his laundry. Before that day, he’d agreed to let me go on a three-week vacation to Iowa with my best friend and her family. I know, I know—Iowa—for vacation? When you’re fourteen, and your friends invite you…

Recently, I saw a question posted on Facebook that went something like this: When you were a kid, what was something other families had that made you think they were rich? When I was young, I believed that anyone with a two-story house was loaded, and I always got super-excited if I was invited to stay over with someone who…

The day my mom died was the day I stopped believing in God, heaven, and the other nonsense to which so many of my friends subscribed. I was of the opinion that there were only two types of people—the living and the dead. When someone died, that was it. They didn’t go to a better place or become reincarnated. They…

In book clubs and reading circles, there’s a thing people sometimes must admit to, and it’s called “DNF.” This admission often comes with feelings of guilt and shame. I’ve DNF’d many times, and the first few times I did it, I didn’t want to confess my sin simply because I don’t like the stigma of being a quitter. So, for…

When we hear the word accomplishment, we often think of things like certifications, degrees, and job promotions.  I looked up the definition of the word, and the one I like best is the successful completion of a task.  If someone asks me how my weekend was, I immediately think of the things I did (or did not) do.  I feel…

My son’s move into his own place started a chain reaction of cleaning, sorting, organizing, trashing, and donating. I started by going up into the attic each day I was off and bringing down three or four plastic tubs. I’d clean the tubs off (yes, a little OCD over here), go through them, and sort everything out: things for my…

My mom died when I was eleven, and from then on, holidays were different. To be honest, they sucked; but the worst holiday of all was Mother’s Day. For me, it hadn’t turned into ‘just another day’; instead, it was a sad day. It was a day to watch everyone else celebrate something that I was no longer eligible to…